Warehouse 13: (Part VI) Burning my Shadow
by A Rhea King
Summary: Evil Pete possess Pete, but not before Pete finds another way to imprison him inside his body and in the Warehouse. Determined to control Pete, Evil Pete forces his captor to stay awake, driving Pete into his darkest past. Meanwhile the team continues searching for a way to destroy Evil Pete.
1. Day One

**Warehouse 13**  
**"Burning My Shadow"**  
By A. Rhea King

From **day one** he heard things, but could only see blackness.

"Wakey, wakey," he heard Claudia call and her voice faded away. It was followed by Steve coming close, telling him, "Ah, Pete, you are not going to believe who won the Super Bowl!" He droned on, telling Pete about the game. It was interrupted by crunching of food and Steve drinking something until it faded away. He was startled awake when he heard Myka talking to him about her last assignment. She was going over notes and 'bouncing ideas off him' as she tried to figure out where the artifact was. Suddenly she figured it out. It felt like a very light hug and she was gone. He heard his mother's voice several times as she told him about current events and people they knew back home.

The only voice he never heard was Artie. Not until this moment – with no concept of time he wasn't even sure when the moment was.

"Pete," Artie's voice said but then there was a long pause. "The others believe you can hear us. Look, we're… we're getting close to figuring out what they are. It's promising actually. I just… I don't want you to give up, okay? I… Well, you're living in my house right now and I'd like you to leave. I like my space."

Pete could only feel the smile in his head.

"Doctor Carter is coming tomorrow to check on you and the other bronzed people. She wants… She was looking forward to spending time with you, she said. So don't give up. There are people who care about you out here and, well…" Artie stopped talking and time went back to passing with no sense of how long it had been.

**Day 39**

Artie walked down the aisle with Claudia. He carried a basket of bagged artifacts. Claudia was able to use the Feng Shui Spiral, and knew the Warehouse inside out, but Artie had found that with Evil Pete and his cloud of goons in the Warehouse she rarely would go anywhere in it alone. So he finally gave into her whining and agree to help her place artifacts. Referencing a sheet of paper she turned down an aisle.

"I think… I saw a spot down—"

Both stopped dead in their tracks when they heard a song being whistled. Artie looked up, then behind him. Evil Pete and his evil buddies had been haunting the entire team since Pete was bronzed. He would whistle the same song from time to time or let out a long-winded maniacal laugh.

"I used to really like that song," Claudia said between gritted teeth.

Artie looked at her. The artifact, a metal box of spoons, was slowly caving under her tight grip. Artie quickly saved it from her. She watched him try pressing the dents out.

"I hate that thing, Artie. I hate everything about it."

"Well, it is pure evil. That feeling sort of works in this situation." He offered a smile.

"You're joking? About this?" She shook her head. "Pete is frozen in time and it gets to run loose. That isn't fair!"

Artie sighed, handing her back the dented box. "When has our work ever been fair? Shelf this."

She started walking again and he followed.

She looked at him. "I don't think that you can really hide things from whatever that is."

Artie shrugged. "What are you talking about?"

She whispered, "I saw the control panel yesterday."

"Then you shouldn't talk about it, should you?" Artie whispered back.

She stopped talking, but not without making a face about it.


	2. Day 45

**Day 45**

Artie walked into the office with a stack of files under one arm, a bag of dog food over one shoulder, and his doctor's bag in his other hand.

"Sorry I'm late," he told the empty office.

Artie dropped the files on his desk and then walked over to a small alcove off the office. Two dog bowls sat next to a large dog bed. One had water, one was empty. He sat the bag down and scooped out some food.

"Trailer," Artie called.

He turned and walked to his computer, starting to unpack his bag. He stopped and turned.

"Trailer?"

Artie froze when he felt fire-hot breath on the back of his neck. "He's taking a doggie nap," a voice that sounded a lot like Myka's said in his ear.

Artie slowly turned. He had seen Evil Myka with Evil Pete several times while they haunted the team, but never this close. Her eyes were pits of black. Like Evil Pete she was pale with visible black veins. Beneath her long black steampunk coat and thigh high, dark red, nine-inch heel boots, she wore a black pleather cat suit that left nothing to the imagination.

"What do you want?" Artie asked.

Evil Myka smiled, and it sent chills down Artie's spine. She reached up and drew a long, chokeberry red fingernail slid down the side of his face.

She leaned in, her lips dangerously close to his. "Do you know a secret?" she whispered.

"Y-yes."

She grabbed his chin in a firm hold. He felt her other hand slide around his side, stopping on his back.

"Yes. You do. And so do I."

He heard the keypad outside the office door beep as someone entered a code. He started to yell out a warning. In an instant pain radiated across his back and then he felt a lump on the right side of his chest. He could only get enough air to utter a warning loud enough for himself and Evil Myka to hear.

"You're going to go with me and we're going to have a nice reunion with Pete," Evil Myka told him. "If you don't go, if you keep trying to warn Claudia - well, Claudia may not like how I end her life, but I will."

Artie was torn between who he should protect: Pete or Claudia.

"You have ten seconds to decide. Ten." Myka moved her face closer with each count. "Nine… Eight… Seven… Six… Five…"

"Okay," Artie whispered. He hoped he could come up with some escape plan before he reached the bronzer. "Leave her alone. Okay."

Evil Myka brought her hand around and patted his chest, leaving a bloody handprint on his shirt. He glanced at it.

"Come along," she told him as she slid her hand down and around his arm.

She led him out of the office. The balcony door closing as the other door opened.

Claudia walked into the room with a bag in one hand and a coffee in the other.

"Artie?" she called.

With no answer she went over to a desk, set out her breakfast croissant and laptop. "So did anything interesting happen last night, Warehouse?" Claudia asked. She began pulling up video feeds from around the warehouse…

#

Artie tried several times to pull away from Evil Myka, but she kept a tight, painful grip on his arm. He knew where they were going.

"I won't debronze him," Artie told her, repeatedly.

Each time she smiled and chuckled. They turned into the fenced area and he found Evil Pete lounging on the controls of the bronzer. They had moved Pete inside the bronzer and he gleamed under the lights. Surrounding the area were the forms of the evil spirits Pete had released, each taking the shape of the released genie they came from. Evil Myka pulled Artie to a stop. He tensed when Evil Pete stood up and walked down the two small steps to stand in front of him. Evil Pete grabbed the back of Artie's neck, leaning in.

"Artie, Artie, Artie."

He didn't respond.

"You kept a secret from me. Now, that hurts my feelings."

"You have feelings?" Artie quipped.

When Evil Pete laughed, they all did. When he stopped, so did they. It was creepy, but it also gave Artie one insight – these things did nothing without Evil Pete's approval.

"No. Now, Pete is in the chamber, all ready to join the land of the breathing. You are going to give us some DNA and start this up. Be quick about it!" Evil Pete turned on a toe. "I have a date with destiny!"

"No."

Evil Pete laughed. He leaned back against the door of the chamber, watching Artie.

"Just because we haven't destroyed _your_ world yet, doesn't mean we can't."

Artie smiled. Then he laughed.

"What? What's so fucking funny?" Evil Pete demanded.

"You can't do anything to us!" Artie told him. "You can't do anything without Pete. I don't know why, I don't know what makes him so important to you, but you are powerless without him. Your threat is empty!"

Evil Pete nodded. "You're right. I do need him to destroy this dreadful planet. That's true. But here's the real kicker…" Evil Pete turned his head the right.

Artie followed his gaze. He watched them drag Myka from behind several bronze statues. She was still wearing her pajamas and barefoot. She had duct tape over her mouth and wrapped around her wrists behind her back. Her left eye was bruised and slightly swollen. There was a long, deep, jagged cut on her left cheek. Blood from it had dried down her face and on the duct tape. Down her arms were several cuts and her right foot had a nasty bruise across the top. She probably had at least a few broken bones from the color of the bruising.

"I don't need to destroy the planet to destroy your world," Evil Pete told him. "And one by one, your little artifact groupies will die, and you'll watch every one."

There was a tense silence. Evil Pete suddenly laughed and offered up one of his wide, insane grins.

"Bet ol' Pete never made life this interesting!" He walked up, laying a hand on Artie's shoulder and looking him in the eye. "So tell me, Artimus… Which limb should I tell them to tear off her first? Which one do you think she won't mind losing the most? Or maybe we can start with the eyes? They are pretty but she doesn't really need them, does she?"

Myka started struggling and screaming at him from behind the duct tape. She was pushed to the floor and several of them grabbed arms and legs, pulling her limbs out, ready to literally tear her limb from limb.

Artie couldn't do this. He hoped a plan would show up with his decision, but he couldn't watch Myka die.

"STOP! Okay. Okay."

Evil Pete cocked his head. "Really? You're on board with me? Because I will take it personally if you change your mind, Artie, my friend. And then I'll take it out on her. And since Claudia just walked into a lion's den, she's next."

On cue, Claudia was thrown to the floor next to Myka. She caught herself on her arm, turning her back to Myka.

"I'll do it," Artie quietly said.

He turned his back on Myka screaming against the duct tape. But it gave Claudia time to roll onto her side and show Myka what she had tucked in the back of her jeans. A knife and two Tesla pistols. Myka looked up, making sure the other 'things' were watching their master. She slipped the knife out and began cutting through the duct tape. With that done she slid it under her body and tapped Claudia. Claudia rolled back some, waiting with Myka for the right moment to spring into action.

#

Pete was confused. It was an effort to move his body. He had been staring at complete darkness for so long that he didn't notice right away he was staring at light and steam. It was humid and warm with each breath easing through his lungs. It felt good and invigorated him.

He heard an alarm and then a door open. The steam quickly dissipated and he stared at Artie standing outside the debronzer. Myka stood behind him, but had her head down. Pete took two steps out of the bronze chamber.

"Did you destroy him?" Pete asked them.

In seconds the situation revealed itself but to Pete it felt like an eternity. Even when he was an old man, reminiscing about this day, Pete would always remember things happening slowly, with clarity, and in sharp detail.

Artie started to answer, but grimaced. Myka looked up. Her pale skin with its black veins glistened under the warehouse lights. Her black eyes glistened. Pete felt cold, realizing something was very wrong. He turned his head and stared at Claudia and Myka on the floor. Then he felt a cold hand slide onto his right shoulder and the presence of something else on his left. His heart skipped a beat and he couldn't breathe for several seconds. Pete turned his head, looking into the blackness of Evil Pete's eyes, and his wide, ludicrous grin.

"Hello, Pete," he crooned. He put his hand on the back of Pete's neck, giving a couple massaging grips.

"Aw hell," was the only thing Pete could think of saying.

Evil Pete lifted his left fist up over his head and brought it crashing down on the controls of the bronzer. He beat the controls into useless parts, assuring that there was no way for Pete to bronze himself again. Then he leaned back against the controls, his elbows resting on the edge.

"You are something, know that? Does anyone here know how smart you really are?" Evil Pete asked him.

Pete didn't answer.

Evil Pete grinned again, standing up. He laid his hand on Pete's chest, right over his heart. Pete felt pressure inside his chest and his heart began to flutter. He looked away, gasping as his vision began to sparkle.

"Yet so mortal. I'll change that." Evil Pete pulled his hand away, drawing lines of light with it.

Pete couldn't scream. He couldn't move to push Evil Pete away or cover his heart. It sounded like the ocean was crashing in on his ears, drowning out every other sound. His vision began to darken from the edges.

A bolt of a Tesla pistol hit Evil Pete right between the eyes, knocking him over the controls. He disappeared into the darkness behind it.

"RUN, PETE!" he heard Myka say, but it sounded so far away.

Pete grabbed the ledge of the controls, cutting his hand on some plastic. He didn't notice or feel the pain, he was trying to recover from whatever Evil Pete had done to his heart. He heard noises beyond the ocean sound, but they weren't distinct.

Pete inhaled a deep breath suddenly and everything came back. He was able to breathe and his hearing returned. He felt someone grab his arm and turned, staring at Evil Pete. He was coming over the controls, grinning like a deranged clown. He reached out his other hand to grab Pete's shoulder. Pete thrust his hand at Evil Pete. Electricity leapt from his fingertips, knocking Evil Pete back into the darkness beyond the bronzer.

"RUN, PETE, RUN!" he heard Myka scream.

Knowing that Evil Pete could use him to destroy everyone he cared for was the only reason Pete did as Myka said.

Pete raced into the warehouse, heading for the office. He was halfway there when he stopped running, staring up at the office. If Evil Pete caught him outside the Warehouse, there would be no chance of stopping him. His only safe choice was to stay in the Warehouse and find a way to stop Evil Pete from taking him or at the very least slowing him down.

"Oh Peeeeeete," he heard Evil Pete call. "You can't hide from me. I can hear your heart beating."

Pete headed across the Warehouse. He didn't know where he was going, he just knew he couldn't stay anywhere for very long. He came to an aisle as electricity shot across the aisle. He jumped back, barely missing being electrocuted. He looked down the aisle and assessed it was just artifact energy. He turned into the aisle and ran a couple steps before stopping. He put his hands on his knees for a second as he caught his breath. He stood, looking around him. He didn't know what he was looking for.

"There has to be something in this place that I can stop him with," Pete told the artifacts around him.

He heard laughter, but it was far away still.

"Come on, Warehouse, help me out here." Pete started walking, looking at each of the artifacts. Nothing was jumping out at him as being helpful.

He came to the basket of Baylor Dodgeballs and walked around them to the other aisle. He stopped to look at the artifacts around him.

"The one time, Warehouse, that I could really use some of that strange juju you have, would be now. If that Evil Pete gets me, you are as good as dead. All of you. Do you get that? I really, really need some help here."

"Oh, help me. Help me," someone mocked Pete.

Pete spun around. Evil Myka was walking toward him, wearing a cold smile. A dark cloud followed her. He backed up and tripped on something, falling. Two dodgeballs rolled past him and stopped. Evil Myka stopped, cocking her head. The balls started bouncing and suddenly they sprang at her, slamming into her. She turned her head. Two became four. They pummeled her again.

"Pete," something whispered.

He turned his head. He was eye level with a doll under a glass dome. She pointed down the aisle.

"What?"

"It's down there. Go down there," the doll whispered.

Pete scrambled to his feet and ran down the aisle. He stopped, realizing he didn't know where he was going. He looked around him. Something smacked his leg and he turned. A compact and lipstick sat at eye level with him. On the compact lid the lipstick sloppily wrote: computer. Pete ran to the nearest terminal and reached out to the keyboard. Interference ran across the screen, it glitched, and then scrolled fast until it stopped on a picture of a rope. Pete reached out to tap it and was thrown back. He landed on the cement and slid to a stop at the base of stairs. He looked up, watching Evil Pete walk toward him. He heard a tap-tap and looked up. An artifact was tapping a can of something. As Evil Pete walked past the can tipped over and powder fell from above. Evil Pete began to crackle as he solidified.

"Good job, Warehouse," Pete told the building.

He leapt to his feet and ran, looking for the rope the Warehouse had shown him. He found the aisle and spotted a piece of the rope dangling from the top shelf. He didn't see a rolling staircase or ladder in either direction. Pete jumped up on the first shelf and scaled the shelves to the top.

His hand closed around the rope when something hit him hard, throwing him back to the cement floor. The landing knocked the wind out of Pete. He looked up when Evil Pete stood over him.

"This is too easy!" Evil Pete laughed.

Pete looked down the aisle. The rope was within reach, but behind Evil Pete.

Evil Pete suddenly grew in size and plunged toward him. Pete lunged for the rope. A tangle of legs, cloud, and rope rolled back and forth, knocking against the shelves and toppling artifacts.

Artie appeared at the end of the aisle. Claudia and Myka weren't far behind. On the opposite end of the aisle, Evil Myka and the things with her took shape. She took a step forward as dodgeballs came flying over the shelf to her right. The balls bounced between her and Pete. Evil Myka stepped back and they calmed down a little.

When the fight paused he was wrapped in the rope. The last of Evil Pete disappearing into Pete's mouth and nose. Pete cringed and shook his head. The cloud started to come out again but stopped. Pete screamed as the smoke tried and tried to pull away, but it couldn't. And each time, the rope wrapped tighter around him. He bellowed something unintelligible and the fight restarted. It was like watching a worm dance across the floor.

"GET THIS OFF OF ME!" he screamed.

Not knowing who he was talking to, no one moved. Pete stopped struggling and turned a pitiful look on Artie.

"Get this off of me. Please get this off of me."

Artie didn't move. He put his arm out when Claudia took a step forward. She started to argue but then Myka grabbed her arm and pulled her back with her.

"That's not Pete," Myka told her.

"Of course I am, Mykes. Let me loose!"

They didn't move. Artie looked at Evil Myka and Evil Steve. The two watched the activity with no emotions.

Then an unearthly scream erupted from Pete, making everything shudder and shake. The black cloud came out of his nose and mouth, but stopped, unable to leave Pete. Evil Pete fought more but the ropes weren't letting him go. The three watched Evil Myka and Evil Steve whisper something. They changed back to their cloud form, followed by the others, and disappeared into the darkness of the ceiling overhead. The dodgeballs stopped bouncing.

"GET BACK HERE!" Evil Pete screamed at them.

"Artie," Myka asked, "Did you know we had an artifact that could do this?"

"No."

"Then how did Pete?"

Artie considered the questions. "Claudia, what rope is that?"

Claudia ran back to a terminal and pulled it up. But the entire screen seemed to have flashing areas of disturbed artifacts.

"Artie, the Warehouse is a mess. Everything's been disturbed. This place is really, really unhappy right now."

"No, it's not. There's no storm. No electricity." Artie slowly approached Pete. The balls started bouncing. "It's Artie, guys. Remember me? I brought you here. I just need to talk to Pete."

That settled them down some.

"Pete?"

Quietly he answered, "Yeah?"

"Is Evil Pete in there with you?"

"Yeah."

"Did you tell the Warehouse anything before you got to this rope?"

"I told it if this thing gets me before I find a way to stop it, the Warehouse was in danger too. I'd say it listened to me."

"I'd say so too." Artie looked at the balls. "Okay, guys, I'm going to help Pete sit up. Please don't attack me."

The balls got a little restless when he reached down and helped Pete sit up. Artie helped him slide back against the shelves. Pete had a bleeding lip and cut over his eye. Artie pulled his handkerchief out and wiped the blood away.

"Thanks."

"How long can you control him?" Artie asked.

"I do—"

Pete suddenly grinned and laughed. "How long can Pete control me? Me? I think it's the—"

And the personality suddenly switched. Pete leaned his head forward. Blood dribbled down the rope. When he put his head back, his nose was bleeding. Artie pressed his handkerchief against his nose.

"I really don't know, Artie," Pete told him. "He is trying to take over now that he's stuck in here. It feels like… Like there's a snake in my body. He's cold and smooshy. I'm trying to keep him out of my mind but… I'm feel weak. Is that normal after being bronzed?"

"It can be. I'm sorry we had to debronze you. We have no solution yet."

"Better put on some coffee then, cuz I don't know how much time we have before… Before I'm not me anymore."

Artie nodded. He stood up and headed back to Claudia and Myka.

"Myka, take the first turn staying with him. We'll stay in six hour shifts. Claudia and I will head up to the office, and call Abigail and Steve in to help. Do you want us to bring anything?"

"Some clothes and shoes, and we're going to need some blankets. The floor's pretty cold."

"Okay."

"Claudia, we need to check all the disturbed artifacts and reassure them. Get some of the balls."

The balls were hesitant to let the two capture them but didn't put up much of a fight. Artie and Claudia left.

Myka walked over and sat down across from Pete. The two stared at each other.

Pete smiled. "Hi."

She returned it. "Hi."

Pete looked down.

"Are you in pain?"

He nodded. She moved toward him.

"Stay back, Mykes. I don't trust him."

She sat back against the opposite shelves, watching Pete.


	3. Day 46

**Day 46**

"Abigail," Pete said.

She had closed her eyes for a moment, feeling tired. She looked at him, wondering why he was still awake. As far as she knew, he hadn't gone to sleep since this started.

"You should get some rest, Pete."

He almost smiled.

"You know… Perhaps I didn't think this whole thing through very well," Pete told her.

"What do you mean?"

"I have to go the bathroom."

She smiled. "Your right. That wasn't well thought out. I don't think we can get you upstairs."

"Me neither." He looked away. "This could get messy. And I'm hungry and thirsty."

"I can help there. I have some water and brought a couple ham and cheese sandwiches."

"Oh yeah. Thank you."

She got up and got out a bottle of water and sandwich. She knelt beside him and unwrapped the sandwich. She reached up to feed it to him and found him grinning like a lunatic.

"A little closer," Pete crooned.

Abigail didn't move.

"Come on, dearie. A little closer. I won't bite. Right away."

She put the sandwich down. "He has to eat."

"Wrong," Evil Pete told her.

The smile dropped and Pete stared at her. "This can't be good."

She sat the sandwich aside and opened the bottle. She almost had it to Pete's lips when he gnashed his teeth, trying to grab her thumb to smash between them. She jerked back, staring at Evil Pete's grin.

"If you don't let him drink something, you'll kill him."

"Ohhhh." Evil Pete mocked sympathy.

"Okay, let me put it to you another way. You are trapped inside Pete and we aren't taking this rope off even if, God forbid, Pete should die. Now, how certain are you that when that happens, you aren't going to die with him? Or, at the very least, be trapped in his," Abigail leaned in, accentuating each word that followed. "Dead… decaying… corpse… in a bronzed coffin, under six feet of dirt?"

Evil Pete's smile lost some of its intensity.

"Hm?" Abigail asked.

"Once a day."

"Twice."

"Once."

"Twice!"

Evil Pete's smile grew. "You want me to stay alive so badly."

"I want Pete to stay alive. You could die and I wouldn't care."

"Fine. Twice."

The grin disappeared and Pete inhaled a breath. "I'd hate to see you get mad, Abigail."

She smiled when he looked at her. "How about that sandwich and water now?"

He nodded.

She lifted it up so he could take a bite.

"When you're done, you should try to get some sleep."

He shook his head.

"You can't stay awake forever, Pete."

"He won't let me sleep."

"Sleep when you can. A few minutes is better than nothing at all."

He took another bite, thinking about something. He nodded. "I was awake for just over twenty days once."

"A bet in college?"

He almost smiled. "I wish, but no."

"Why did you do it then?"

"Some water please?"

She offered him water, hoping for an answer. But he didn't explain what had caused him to stay awake for so long.


	4. Day 48

**Day 48**

The walk from the office to where Pete was a long walk for Steve. Mostly because he had to leave Abigail, Myka, and Claudia researching and he wanted to help there. He liked Pete but they weren't as close as he felt Pete was to the others and he had managed to avoid shifts until this afternoon. An aisle away he heard Pete talking but not Artie. His heart picked up the pace – had Evil Pete gotten free?

Steve came around the corner and his heart slowed down. Pete was still sitting on the floor, tied up in the rope. Artie had brought the wingback chair and ottoman from his bedroom so they had somewhere to sit with Pete.

Pete was sitting on folded blankets with pillows behind him where the shelves would have pushed against him.

"Hey, Pete," Steve said.

Pete stopped talking and looked up. A full beard had grown in, making the dark circles under his eyes look more like black eyes. Pete wasn't starving, but the sudden drop in food his body had accustomed to left him looking sallow. He stared at Steve for several minutes.

"Steve," Pete said, looking away. "You're Steve."

"Yeah."

Their conversation woke Artie. He got up and gathered some dishes in a grocery basket. He looked at his watch.

"You're early," Artie said.

"Is that okay?" Steve asked.

"Yes. Of course." Artie walked up and crouched next to Pete. "I'll see what I can do about that request, okay?"

Pete barely nodded.

"Any requests for supper?"

Pete shook his head. "I'm not really hungry."

"I know you don't feel like you are, but you have to eat. I'll send some sandwiches – for your three in the morning sandwich, okay?"

That won Artie a smile. "Thanks."

Artie stood and walked over to his segue parked at the end of the aisle. He hooked the basket on a handle and drove away. Steve walked over to the chair and sat down.

"Anything exciting happening?" Pete asked.

"No."

"Any forest fires?"

"Not that I've heard about."

"North Korea's still under control of a crazy man?"

"Last I checked, yes."

"California hasn't fallen off into the ocean?"

Steve laughed. "No. Nothing has happened that I've heard about. Good, bad, or weird."

"Damn. I was hoping for a good asteroid story or at the very least a Loch Ness sighting."

"I'm sure there has been a sighting, but that stopped being interesting a while ago. Maybe they've figured out the mystery behind Stone Hedge."

"Maybe."

The two fell silent. Steve picked up a magazine from the table and thumbed through it. He looked up when Pete started muttering again. He realized suddenly that Pete wasn't muttering. He was singing the same song over and over. Steve caught some of the lyrics...

"My buddy's breathin' his dyin' breath / Oh God please won't you help me make it through / Here they come to snuff the rooster / Yeah here come the rooster, yeah / You know he ain't gonna die / No, no, no ya know he ain't gonna die…"

"What are you singing?" Steve asked.

Pete fell silent. "Nothing."

"You were singing something."

Pete didn't answer.

"When I get bored I sing sometimes," Steve said, hoping to reassure Pete. He turned back to the magazine.

He wasn't sure how much time passed before Pete quietly retorted, "It's not because I'm bored."

Steve lowered the magazine. Pete was staring at the shelves across from him. His cheeks were wet with tears.

"Do… Do you want to talk about it?" Steve asked, setting the magazine aside.

He nodded. "But only if you swear never to tell the girls or Artie. I don't want them to worry."

"You don't think I'll worry?"

Pete looked at him. "Probably, but you're a guy like I'm a guy. You know how to keep it in."

Steve nodded. "Okay. Between us."

"I don't think there is a way to stop Evil Pete, Steve." The tears started again. "I'm going to die with this thing in me."

"No, Pete, you're—"

"Uh-uh, Steve. Not you. You don't get to reassure me because that's not how we work. You know it's true, and so do I. And sooner or later, the others will come to the same realization."

"Actually, I don't know that's true." Steve wondered for a split second if that was a lie, but then by lying to himself or telling himself the truth, he believed it was true. He knew there was something out there to stop this thing from stealing Pete away and destroying the planet.

Steve moved next to Pete. "You aren't going to die with him in you, because that's not what we do, Pete. We find ways. We always find ways. We saved you when we didn't know you and Genna were connected. We've saved the planet how many times? And how many times before I joined? Pete, this is not the end."

Pete shook his head. "You're wrong."

Steve was having a hard time accepting that Pete had lost hope and wasn't able to see the brighter side like he typically would. He wasn't going to give up though. Pete needed his hope to keep fighting and to give them more time. Steve knew he had to pull Pete through this moment of doubt.

"Come on, man, don't give up like this. Don't let him win."

"I'm not letting him win, and I'm not giving up, but how long do you think I'll physically be able to fight him!" Pete's tired eyes found Steve. He did look exhausted and worn out. "This isn't like getting my ass kicked by someone under the influence of an artifact, Steve. He's in me. I can feel him under my skin, against my bones. He holds onto my heart and lungs and it hurts! And then he tries to climb into my mind and makes my head ache."

"So you haven't lived through worse than this, but it's not the end."

Pete hesitated. Steve was surprised by the hesitation because it meant that Pete had lived through worse. Pete looked down.

"When have you lived through worse than this?" Steve asked.

"It's classified."

Steve nodded. "Okay but was it worse than this?"

Pete nodded. "About the same."

Seeing this approach was failing, Steve took a different approach. "Okay, so how does all this come back to that song?"

"When I lost hope the other time, and I was sure I was going to die, I sang it. Over and over. It was the only thing I could think to do."

"Oh, so you _have_ been through something as bad, lost hope and thought you were going to die then, but in the end, survived to sing the song during another time, _just like it_."

A slow smile came to Pete.

"You can be a jerk," Pete said with a smile.

"Yep."

The two laughed.

"Don't sing that song anymore, Pete. You aren't going to die like this because we're here. We aren't going to leave you and we will not quit. Our odd little extended family has all the makings of crazy and twice the level of determination."

Pete smiled.

Steve noticed a stack of board games peeking out from behind the chair. "Who brought the board games?"

"Abigail."

"Want to play something?"

"I'd like to do that, yeah."

Steve went over to the stack and called out the titles until Pete picked one. He sat down next to him and set up the game.

"Thanks," Pete said.

"Yeah. No problem. I expect the same in return some day."

Pete smiled. "No problem."

Steve pulled out the dice and looked at him. "Get ready to get whooped, old man."

Pete laughed.


	5. Day 51

**Day 51**

Pete wished he could rub his eyes. They were dry and burning. He closed them for a moment when they watered, hearing plastic tap something a couple times.

"I'm gonna beat…" Claudia started. "Are you okay?"

He looked at her and smiled. "Dry eyes."

"Should I get some drops?"

He shook his head. He looked down at the Chutes and Ladders. It was blurry.

"Ready to go?" she asked.

"Yeah. Spin me."

She hit the spinner and it spun around. "Seven and… Ladder. Man. I want a ladder!"

Pete closed his eyes a moment again. He felt light headed suddenly and like his body was drifting on water. He heard Claudia say something but it was a far off noise to him.

"Pete," he heard someone say very clearly. It was a man's voice. "Wake up."

Pete opened his eyes, staring at the woman crouched in front of him. He stared at her for a few seconds.

"Who are you?" Pete asked her.

"Claudia," she told him.

He couldn't remember anyone named Claudia. "Who?"

"I'm Claudia. Pete, you are in Warehouse 13 in South Dakota. I'm Claudia, we've worked together for like ever. We're friends. We were just playing Chutes and Ladders. See?" She pointed down.

He looked down but nothing on the floor made any sense. "What?" he asked, shaking his head. "I don't… I don't understand you. Who are you? Where am I?"

She repeated what she just said. Still, he couldn't understand what she was saying.

"I don't get it. Why am I here? Who are you?"

Claudia drew a breath, and repeated the information every time he said he didn't understand. Peppered in with him asking the questions, Evil Pete kept trying to take over but wasn't able to stay in control. That seemed to make him angrier every time he appeared.

Suddenly something clicked back into place, in the middle of her repeating the information.

"Claudia?"

She stopped. "Hi. Welcome back."

"I went somewhere?"

"You didn't know me or where you were."

Pete couldn't remember forgetting. "I don't remember," he whispered.

She patted his shoulder. "It's not important. Do you want to keep playing or stop?"

Pete looked down at the game. "Keep playing."

She sat back down and they went back to playing the game.


	6. Day 55

**Day 55**

"Artie, I want to use this on Pete," Claudia announced, and then dropped a soap on a rope next to his elbow.

Artie looked at it, then up at her. "You were supposed to be looking for—"

"I have been looking for a way to bag Evil Pete since the first day Pete was bronzed. Today, I looked for something so he could get cleaned up and… Cleaned up."

"You can't use that on Pete."

"We're already using an artifact on Pete, and Pete _is_ an artifact," Myka pointed out. "And if that can clean him up, I'm sure he'd appreciate that even more than we would."

"We aren't using that artifact on Pete," Artie told her, turning his attention away to his computer screen.

"Artie," Steve said.

Artie sighed, looking up.

"Artie," Steve repeated.

He looked over his shoulder. He and Myka were sharing the couch, combing through ancient books looking for anything that would help Pete. They had been doing this when they could for four months, and every day since Pete was de-bronzed.

"Come on. He's… You can't ask him to stay like this when we can fix it."

"No. We aren't using tha—"

"Then tell us another one we can use," Steve said as he got up and walked over. "Please. Pete is hungry, exhausted, and he hasn't had a shower since he was bronzed. Give him some of his dignity back."

Artie heaved a sigh. He held his hand out to Steve.

"Glove."

He dug one out of his pocket and handed it over. Artie put it on and picked up the soap. He left the office. Claudia flopped her arms in defeat, turning to Steve and Myka.

"See if there's something else you can try," Myka said.

"That one didn't have any bad effects though!"

"What was it?"

"Al Capone's Soap on a rope. It's how he stayed all nice and fresh looking in jail."

"Keep looking," Steve said. "Pete will appreciate it."

Claudia headed back into the Warehouse.

#

Artie parked his Segway at the end of the aisle and climbed off. Abigail was asleep in the chair. Pete sat on pillows. He stared across the aisle with a dazed expression of complete exhaustion. Artie crouched next to him.

"How are you doing Pete?"

It took him a minute before Pete could focus on him. He didn't speak.

"Pete?"

"Who?" Pete asked.

Artie sighed. "You are Pete."

"I am?"

Artie nodded. "You've been awake for twenty-one days."

"It feels like longer."

Artie sat down on the floor. "You are Peter Lattimer. You work in Warehouse 13. Your partner is Myka Bering and I'm your boss, Artie."

Pete slowly blinked. He looked away.

"Everything is so fuzzy," Pete said.

"I know. Vanessa said this would happen the longer you stayed awake."

"Who?"

"Doesn't matter. Can you remember anything about you right now?"

Pete sighed, resting his head on the shelf behind him. "No."

"It will come back. I brought you something to get you cleaned up. Can you turn your hand here so I can put it in it?"

Pete looked down at his hand. There was enough gap in the rope he could turn his hand a little. Artie placed the soap in his hand. He turned his head when a wind kicked up. He felt a spray on his face and then it was done. He looked up. Pete was clean shaven again and looked like he'd just stepped out of a shower. Better yet, he was smiling.

"How did it do that?" Pete asked.

Artie pulled it away with his gloved hand. "It's an artifact, Pete. Do you remember about those?"

Pete shook his head.

"You will again. I have to go back and find a way to help you. Do you want me to bring you anything?"

"I don't know."

"That's fair. I'll be back later to relieve Abigail." Artie looked up. She was awake, watching them.

Pete nodded. "Maybe I'll remember things then."

"I know you will." Artie got up and put the soap in his jacket pocket. He walked back and got on his Segway.

He found Claudia on his way back. She was reading the tag on a back scrubber artifact. He pulled the soap out and held it out to her. She quickly pulled out a glove and took it from him.

"I didn't say no artifact, Claudia, I said not _that_ artifact. If you had read the tag more closely you also would have read that one of the side effect it has is it makes people want to drink."

Claudia crestfallen expression told more about her guilt than her quiet, "I didn't read that. I'm sorry Artie. What… What did you do with it?"

"I used it once on him. Now find something else to… Clean him up on a regular basis that won't drive him crazy, put him to sleep, or make him want to start drinking again. We must have something here that we can use."

She watched him drive away, but smiled. At least Artie hadn't said no to using an artifact.


	7. Day 59

**Day 59**

Myka woke, hearing whispering. She sat up in the chair, watching Pete. He was whispering something she couldn't understand. She pushed her blanket aside and walked over to him, crouching down next to him. He looked up at her and before anything happened, his expression told her his mind was far from the Warehouse. He was angrier than she had ever seen him.

"I'm not telling you anything," Pete snarled.

"Pete, it's Myka."

"Go to hell!" He snapped on the words and it sent a chill through her. She'd never seen Pete behave like this.

Myka reached out to lay a hand on him and a look came over him like he was expecting her to beat him. He began lightly trembling and breathing hard.

"Pete," she quietly said. "I'm Myka. We're best friends. I know you're tired, but don't let it steal you away. Please."

"Friends? I'm tied up!" he spat. "You're a fucking liar! I don't know anything. Do whatever you want but I don't know anything!"

"Pete, come on. Remember what's going on. You put yourself in these ropes to protect us from Evil Pete, the thing inside you. I don't know where you are or who you think I am, but you are not there. You are in South Dakota, in Warehouse 13. I am your best friend, Pete. Please, remember. Please."

"FUCK YOU!" Pete screamed at her.

She reached out to put her hand on his check and he tried to take a bite out of her. Myka jumped back, expecting to see Evil Pete's smile. It didn't come. Pete glared at her with burning hatred. Whoever he thought she was, he would have killed her if the ropes weren't holding him.

Myka scrambled onto her feet and was two steps back to the chair. She picked up her Farnsworth and tapped a button.

Pete looked away and began singing again. "Here they come to snuff the rooster / Yeah here come the rooster, yeah / You know he ain't gonna die / No, no, no ya know he ain't gonna die…"

Myka had never heard him sing a song like this one, in all the years she'd known him. She had never seen him have so much hate in his eyes. Wherever his mind was, it was a frightening and dark place, some place he had never told her about.

"Myka," Artie called.

She looked wide-eyed at Artie on the Farnsworth.

"Pete is somewhere else and I can't bring him back. I have never, ever seen this Pete. He is terrifying."

"On my way."

Myka closed it. She walked back, kneeling in front of Pete. He kept singing, glaring at her with dark eyes of hatred. She didn't look away when she heard Artie's Segway stop nearby. From the corner of her eyes, she saw him kneel down next to her. She heard footsteps running and they stopped at the end of the aisle.

"Pete," Artie said. "What's going on? Where do you think you are?"

"Fuck you," Pete growled. "I am not telling you shit, mother fucker!"

"Is it Evil Pete?" Myka heard Claudia whisper.

She glanced up. Claudia and Steve watched. Steve was barely shaking his head. She turned her attention back to her partner.

"Pete, who am I? Who is this woman?" Artie motioned at Myka.

"Fuck you. Whatever this is, fuck you!"

"Pete," Artie said more sternly, "Who am I? Who is this woman?"

Pete snarled, "I am not telling you anything! _That's_ above my pay grade, _mother fucker_!"

"Oh no," Artie whispered.

Myka looked between him and Pete. "Oh no? Oh no what? Where is he? Why is he acting like this? So… Angry and like—"

Artie answered, "He thinks he's back in the Marines and some place very, very bad." Artie moved a little closer, watching Pete tense. "Soldier, I need you to pull it together." Artie leaned closer. "You are to tell us nothing, do you understand? You will keep your mouth shut and you will tell us nothing. Understand me, soldier?"

That confused Pete. He stared singing again, but with more determination.

"He can't—" Myka started.

Artie shot her a dark look. She stopped talking. He turned back to Pete.

"Where are you? Are you in Iraq? Does this _look_ like Iraq?"

Pete looked past him, at the aisles. A tired look overcame his angry expression and the singing stopped.

"What happened?" He looked at Artie and Myka. "I can't remember what just happened."

"Nothing happened, Pete. You're doing a good job."

He suddenly grinned like Evil Pete and leaned toward Artie. "Nothing happened? You're going to tell him that?"

"So then what happened, Evil Pete? If something did, you tell him."

Evil Pete almost cackled as he sat back. "I don't know, but when I figure it out, I will tell him. I'll make sure he never trusts you. Any of you."

"Good luck with that."

The smile disappeared and Pete looked tired again. He looked down at the floor.

"I hate that guy. He thinks something bad happened."

Artie patted his shoulder. "No. It was nothing. Right Myka?"

Artie looked at her. She stared at him.

"Right," she lied.

Artie got up and walked over to his Segway. Myka smiled at Pete, laying a hand on the ropes.

"I'll be right back, Pete."

He smiled and nodded.

Myka ran after Artie, catching up and stopping him by stepping in front of the Segway.

"What was that?" Myka demanded, pointing back toward Pete. "Where was he?"

"Someplace horrible."

"Where, Artie? I have never heard him sing that song or have that look in his eye. I couldn't tell if he was feeling more fear or hate, but he wanted to kill me. He thought I was someone who needed to die, Artie."

"He's fine now. Let me know if it happens again."

When Artie tried to drive around her she grabbed the handlebar and stopped him. "Tell me where he was."

"I can't." Artie told her.

"Artie, I—"

"It is classified, Myka. You don't have clearance for that information and all you need to know is that if he was in this classified place, he probably did think you were someone who needed to die. Because if he didn't kill them, they were going to kill him. Do you understand now?"

She let go of the Segway. "He was back in the Marines, in Iraq somewhere?"

Artie didn't answer.

"That place must have been bad. I've never seen that Pete." She pointed in the direction of Pete. "That was not my partner. That was… Scary. He was scary."

Artie looked sympathetic when he told her, "He had to be, Myka. If he hadn't been, all I can tell you is your partner wouldn't have been Pete, because he never would have come home."

Myka didn't stop him driving around her. Claudia walked up to Myka.

"Think that's why he started drinking?" Claudia asked.

Myka looked at her. She hadn't made that connection, but it made sense, didn't it?

"I don't know, Claudia." Myka walked away.


	8. Day 62

**Day 62**

Artie stopped his Segway at the end of the aisle and walked past Pete. He was staring at the floor, singing softly '99 bottles of beer on the wall' and he'd gotten to twenty-one.

Lately Pete was talking to them less. He stopped playing board games with them and just stared at the floor. He didn't slip back into the nightmare he left behind in Iraq as often. More often he would ask for his ex-wife Amanda, and sometimes thought he was still an alcoholic and ask them for a drink. Artie was worried about that but Vanessa told him to play along. Disguise soda or fruit juice as alcohol and tell him that it's what he's asking for – in his fugue state he wouldn't be able to tell the difference. It worked and his mind tricked him into being drunk from time to time.

Artie walked over to the chair and woke Claudia.

"My shift," Artie told her.

She stood and stretched, then looked down at Pete. She walked over and crouched down, giving him a hug. He stopped singing but didn't respond any further. She gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm going to catch a nap, Pete, and then keep looking for the answer to this. I know it's out there somewhere, I just have to find it."

Pete didn't answer her. She stood and walked away. Artie sat down in the chair.

"How are you feeling?" Artie asked. "Do you want anything to eat or drink?"

Pete didn't respond for a long time. Artie read through an entire article in the Reader's Digest before Pete said anything.

"Who am I?" Pete asked.

Artie lowered the magazine. "What?"

Pete was still staring at the floor. "Who am I?"

Artie got up and walked over, kneeling on one knee. Looking into his face was an expression he'd seen twice in his life when he'd visited someone with Alzheimer. Pete didn't know who he was, where he was, but the uncertainty made him more curious than scared. He just wanted to know the answers, not realizing he probably wouldn't remember them.

"You don't know who you are?" Artie asked him.

Pete focused on him. "Who are you?"

"I'm Artie. You can't remember who you are?"

Pete shook his head. Suddenly he grinned.

"Finally! He's lost his mind," Evil Pete said.

"He hasn't lost his mind. He's just tired."

"He doesn't even fight me any—" The smile disappeared and Pete's forehead creased. He looked confused. "Something happens to me. I think I'm forgetting time. Can someone forget time?"

Artie sat down, smiling. "I think as tired as you are, anything is possible."

"Why can't I sleep?"

"You have something in you trying to take over your mind. It won't let you sleep."

"Oh." Pete looked down. He grinned suddenly, lifting his eyes to Artie. "Something is taking over his mind. Why kid yourself? Soon he won't be able to fight back."

"He's doing a pretty good job so far."

"He can't last forever."

Artie chuckled. "You are sure full of yourself. You don't know Pete like I do. You haven't been around him as long as I have. You are just a road bump in his life, Evil Pete. And soon, you'll be a fading memory too."

"Ha! I'm—"

Pete lifted his head, laying it back against the shelves with his eyes closed. He slowly lowered it and looked at Artie.

"Artie, I'm losing chunks of time," Pete told him.

"I know you are."

"I remember Claudia being here and now you are."

"It's part of exhaustion."

Pete sighed, looking away. "I'm so bored, and tired, and hungry and… I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Complaining."

Artie smiled when Pete looked back. "I think you probably have a right to complain, Pete. You've been pretty good at not doing it so far, so I don't mind now."

"I'm really depressed, too. Does exhaustion do that?"

Artie nodded. "It does. Everything that's happening to you is normal with lack of sleep, not getting enough to eat and drink, or enough exercise."

Pete rested his head back against the shelf. "I want it to be over."

Artie patted his shoulder. "Me too, Pete. Me too. If you care to know, you were on bottle twenty-one."

Pete smiled a little, watching Artie get up and go back to the chair. He focused on a light high above and started signing where he'd left off.


	9. Day 63

**Day 63**

Myka was an aisle away when she heard Pete singing that song again and it made her stop in her tracks. It was the same one he'd sung when his mind took him back to Iraq and the terrors that waited for him there. She started walking again and came around the corner. Abigail sat in the chair near him, staring at the floor. Myka walked up to her, not even looking at Pete.

"How long has he been like this?" Myka asked.

"A couple hours. Artie tried to talking to him but he's…" Abigail stood. "He's so exhausted he can't tell if he's coming or going."

"Go get some rest. I've got the night shift today."

Abigail gathered her belongings in a backpack and left. Myka sat down in the chair, watching Pete glare at her. She got up and walked over to him, crouching down in front of him. He didn't stop singing.

"What don't you know? Where the snipers are? Where the next transport of weapons is? What do you think I want to know?"

He didn't stop singing. She felt a little uncomfortable doing this, but she wanted answers and Artie wasn't going to give them to her.

"Fine. You like that hole so much, right?" She started to walk away, ordering imaginary people. "Back in the hole. No food. No water."

She heard him mutter, "No. No."

She turned, looking at him. He was glaring at her. Despite the soft words, he was still prepared to die rather than give up information. She walked back to him, smiling.

"No? I tell you what, I'll barter with you, Private."

"Lieutenant," he growled."

She smirked. But in her mind she hated torturing him like this. "Private, did you say?"

That did not improve the glare he had on her.

"Tell me, _Private_, do you like it here? Do you enjoy spending your day here?"

"Sure."

"Do you?"

"Oh yeah. I love the baths and you gotta tell that guy with the whip to give it a little more twist. It's not working the kinks out real well. And look at all the weight I've lost. Couldn't ask for a better diet."

Myka stared at him. She couldn't do this anymore. This was only a tip of something very dark and painful that he lived through and she realized she wasn't ready to find out any more. She knelt down in front of him, looking at the floor.

"I'm sorry, Pete. That was mean of me. I thought…" She looked up at him, watching his glare. "I want to know what happened to you. I do. But not like this. I want you to tell me when you're ready. Like you did with the accident when you were drinking." She sighed, sitting back against the shelves behind her and hugging her knees. "I know you don't understand me right now, but that's probably for the best. I don't want you to ever remember this."

"Let me go," Pete asked, almost begged.

She looked up at him. He was still angry, still hated the person he thought she was, but he wasn't scared this time.

"I have a wife. I miss her. I want to see her again."

She watched him.

"Okay," Myka said.

He was taken back. "Okay?"

She nodded, smiling. "You can go home to your wife. Amanda, was it? She misses you."

"How do you know her name?

Myka smiled a little more. "You thought you were talking to her a few times. What is she like?"

Pete stared at her for several minutes. "She's gorgeous and kind. She…" Pete looked away, looking confused. "No. That's wrong. We weren't married now. We got married after… This…" He closed his eyes a moment and then opened them, looking at her. "I thought I was somewhere else again, didn't I?"

"Yes."

"Was I being stupid?"

She smiled, shaking her head. "You were telling me about Amanda."

He smiled and she could see the love there still. "I wish she could be here."

"I know." Myka laid her head on his shoulder. "I know Pete."

He sighed and then rested his head against her. "I'm glad you are though."

She smiled. "Better be. I've had to listen to you sing. You're terrible."

He chuckled. "What was I singing?"

"I don't know. I've never heard the song before and it doesn't sound like something you'd sing."

He lifted his head. She looked up at him. He watched her face for a long time.

"Something about a rooster? Was that—"

She nodded. He looked down. A tear escaped.

"I only sang that when I was overseas, when I didn't think I'd make it home." The memories hurt him and brought more tears. "I haven't sang it since I stopped drinking."

She put her hand on the back of his neck and pressed her head against his neck. "Why don't we talk about it on another day?"

"Yeah."

She looked at him. "Neck rub?"

"I'd love a neck rub. Maybe my headache will go away."

She rubbed his neck, helping him move past the bad memories.


	10. Day 64

**Day 64**

Claudia woke up when something tapped her arm. Steve held out a cup of coffee. She pushed the books lying on her onto the couch and sat up, taking it. He made himself a hole next to her and sat down. The two sipped their coffee without speaking. Myka sat at a desk across the office, pouring through books. Artie and Trailer weren't in the room, probably outside or down with Pete. Abigail had gone back to the bed and breakfast to make sack lunches for everyone.

"We need a magic wand," Claudia said.

"For the office?"

"For Pete."

"Yeah."

They were silent again.

"Or the good witch from the Wizard of Oz," Steve said.

"Glenda," Myka corrected him.

"That too," Claudia said as she nodded.

Myka sat up, shoving a book away suddenly. She got up and stormed out of the office. The two watched her go, sipping their coffee together.

"That's getting more frequent," Steve said.

"Uh-huh."

"Why is it that I feel like I haven't slept any more than Pete has?" Steve asked.

"Empathy. You gots it."

Steve nodded, but the joke didn't make him smile. He started to stand up when his hand got caught in something. He pulled it up, staring at the tawiz amulet hanging off his wrist.

"What's this doing here?"

"I was seeing if it had any other powers that might help us."

"Oh." Steve handed it to her and got up. He took two steps before eureka hit him square in the gut. He spun around, pointing at Claudia.

She froze, her cup halfway to her parted lips, and stared at him.

"We are all complete idiots!" he cried.

She blinked a couple times. "Well… Speak for yourself! Wait. Why are we complete idiots?"

He grabbed the amulet and shook it at her. "We're idiots, Claudia. The damn answer has been here all along, staring us right in the face, and we never even saw it!"

She watched the dancing amulet, trying to connect his dots to her dots so that there was some sense made in both dots. She looked up at him.

"I'm not following, Steve."

"We turn Evil Pete into a God damned genie!"

"We can't. He's part of the soul that was evil and—"

"Yeah? And what were those demons that Pete and Myka found during the interviews? They weren't human. And they sure as heck weren't good."

"But we don't know how to turn anything into a genie."

"No, but the Circle does. And I bet you anything the Regents know how to get a hold of them and that even they would like to see this end. We turn that skanky assed son of a bitch into a genie and then bury him so far down that not even the devil himself can find him!"

Claudia stared at the amulet as it danced before her eyes. She jumped up and ran to the balcony, screaming, "ARTIE!"


	11. Day 68

**Day 68**

Pete heard soft whispers and looked up. Why was the entire team at the end of the aisle, talking and occasionally looking at him? Had the end finally come? He was going to die – he just knew it.

The group broke up. Myka and Steve went one direction. Artie, Claudia, and Abigail went another. Then Myka and Steve came back with the golf cart. Steve got out and started doing something with the back seat and straps.

Myka got out with a piece of cloth, and an MP3 player with headphones. She walked over to Pete and knelt next to him.

"Do you trust me?" she quietly asked him.

He stared into her eyes. They had come up with something, hadn't they? A glimmer of hope lit in his tired body. He nodded.

She laid her hand on his shoulder. "It's been a pretty strange few months, but you know, I think I'd keep them – except the part where Genna died."

"Why's that?"

"I got to know my best friend better."

He leaned his cheek against her hand. "Yeah. Guess so."

She pulled her hand back and he watched her fold the cloth and lay it out in front of her. She looked up at him.

"When you see me signal, you'll have to come to me, okay? I can't… I can't tell you anything more than that. He can't know more than that."

Pete nodded. "I'll look for the signal."

He jumped when something stabbed his neck and started to turn his head. She caught his chin in her hand, shaking her head and smiling.

"You're going to get really tired, but you can't fall asleep," she told him. "Fight like you've been doing and we'll get you out of this. I promise, Pete."

She let go and he turned his head. Steve held a small syringe in one hand.

"Sorry, man."

When he turned his head to look at Myka the world moved at varying speeds. Suddenly he couldn't fight back Evil Pete.

"What have you—" Pete didn't get any more out.

Evil Pete grinned at Myka. "Whatever you gave him made this easier than I ever thought it would be."

She tilted her head to the side. "Come on, Evil Pete, did you really think we'd make this so easy for you? You should have learned by now we thrive on being unpredictable."

She quickly pulled a blindfold over his eyes. She grabbed the headphones and pulled them over his ears, turning up the volume and securing the player between ropes. Together she and Steve moved Pete onto the back of the golf cart and strapped him on. They jumped in and sped off down the aisle.

Overhead they heard a scream. Myka looked back, seeing a dark cloud gathering. She smiled at Steve.

"Well, that made them mad," she told him.

He smiled.

Steve drove to a bare spot in the warehouse where there were no artifacts. Abigail, Claudia, and Artie were waiting. In the middle of them were various pots, teapots, hookahs, vases, and metal oil lamps. Claudia held a staff taller than she was. Artie held a Farnsworth in the other. Abigail was waiting with a pair of sewing scissors.

Myka and Steve pulled Pete off the back of the cart and laid him in the center of the items. Myka pulled the headphones, MP3 player, and blind fold off, and darted out to the edge of the circle. Abigail hurried in and snipped the end of the rope. It immediately released Pete and she quickly hurried back to the edge of the items.

Claudia held the staff up and brought it down hard on the floor. The floor trembled. Around the items they each placed a black crystal and with a soft light something raced from them, forming a dome before disappearing.

Pete's eyes slowly opened.

"I see the whites of his eye," Steve said, "Come on, Evil Pete. You're free, show us what you're made of! Or are you chicken?"

Pete started to ask what was happening but lost control of his body when Evil Pete rushed in to take control. He was forced to watch what happened next through fuzzy vision.

Evil Pete climbed onto his feet, grinning. He had turned Pete's eyes black and shiny, and his skin pasty with black veins. He looked around him. His eyes stopped on Mrs. Fredric when she joined the group.

"What a treat," he crooned to them. "I get to meet the enigmatic Mrs. Frederic."

He was suddenly within a foot of her, grinning like a lunatic. She stood with her hands behind her back, watching him. An eyebrow lifted.

"_You_ make Pete nervous? How profound."

"Is it?" she calmly asked.

He reached for her throat and his hand hit something solid. He pushed against it, then hit a fist against it, but never lost his grin.

"Oh, this is interesting."

In a black blur Evil Pete raced around the enclosure he was in, testing it, looking for a way out. He found it domed not far over his head but there was no way out. He stopped in the center, laughing.

"So… I get him out of the bronzer, then he tangles up George Mallory's rope, you let him out of that, and imprison him in this invisible dome." Evil Pete looked right at Artie. "And here he thought you cared about him." Evil Pete laughed maniacally like the Joker.

Suddenly the laughter cut off.

"Call them, Evil Pete," Myka said.

He slowly turned to look at her. She tilted her head.

"Call the others," she told him.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you want to destroy the world," Claudia told him. "You want them to destroy us. And you want Pete to watch."

He looked over his shoulder at her. He turned in a circle, carefully eyeing each of them.

"There…" He smiled again. "You seven think you have me fooled! You couldn't be any more wrong!"

"Really?" Claudia smiled. "Oh can I tell him? Please guys, let me tell him!"

"I think she should have the honor," Myka agreed.

"Go ahead, Claudia." Artie smiled. "Tell him what he's won."

"Look. Down," she told him. "We left a present in there just for you, Evil Pete."

He did. He stumbled back, staring at the teapot sitting on the floor sitting on a slab of alabaster. Pete started laughing, but it wasn't the laugh of Evil Pete.

"He doesn't know what to do!" Pete told them. "This is—"

Pete suddenly knelt, holding his head. He fell forward, catching himself with his hands. In his cloud form, Evil Pete pulled out of his body and he collapsed. On cue, members of the Circle, dressed in their black hoods, came out of the surrounding aisles and began chanting. It caused Evil Pete's bodiless form to make a screeching sound and slam against the invisible barrier.

Pete lifted his head, seeing Myka crawl between two cloaked people. She patted the cement in front of her, calling him to her. Pete closed his eyes a moment. Between his physical condition, the trauma Evil Pete put him through, and the sedative he'd been given, he found it difficult to find his strength. Pete slowly pushed himself up and then managed to stand. He staggered toward her, scattering things in his way. He hit the barrier and she stood opposite him. Myka smiled, attaching a bracelet to her wrist. He looked down when her hands reached through the barrier and slid a bracelet on him. He took a step toward her, into a hug, and collapsed. Unable to hold his weight Myka crumpled with him.

Myka looked back and saw Evil Pete had noticed Pete was leaving the dome. The space was held open by Pete's feet still inside the dome. Myka pushed Pete off her and grabbed his legs. She pulled back, seconds before Evil Pete slammed into the invisible barrier. Evil Pete roared, shaking the ground, walls, and shelves. He tried to change into a human form but his cloud was starting to disappear into the teapot. He scratched at the invisible barrier and screamed at Myka.

She turned away and laid down next to Pete, facing him. His eyes were closed and his breathing had slowed.

"Pete?"

He muttered something.

"Pete," she called.

"Ten more minutes, Mykes," Pete muttered.

She smiled, brushing her fingers down his face. "Take all the time you want. You've earned it, Peter."

He was snoring before Evil Pete had turned into a genie.


	12. Day 70

**Day 70**

Startled by a dream, Pete sat up with a sharp breath that raked across his chest, leaving a short-lived burning sensation in its wake. He stared at the card index drawers at the end of the couch for minutes before he looked across the Warehouse office. He was no longer in George Mallory's rope and he didn't feel Evil Pete inside him. He rubbed his face, realizing the dream had been real.

He dropped back on the couch and held his aching, throbbing head.

"Pete," he heard Artie say.

He lowered his hands. Artie waited with a glass of water in one hand and holding something in the other. Pete sat up again, accepting the glass. He held his hand out and Artie dropped two Tylenol in his palm. He swallowed the pills and water together and then slouched down on the couch, resting his aching head against the back of the furniture.

"Why don't you sleep some more?" Artie asked. "I'll call Myka and ask her to bring you something to eat. Anything in particular?"

In a hoarse voice, Pete told him, "I don't want anything and… Where is he?"

"Who?"

"Evil Pete."

"Oh. He's a genie now. He's trapped in, as irony would have it, Genna's old teapot. I thought it was a rather fitting end to him."

Pete reached up and massaged his temples. "I am so sorry, Artie. I—"

Sharp and sternly Artie ordered, "Do not ever apologize for anything that's happened. Do you understand me?"

Pete stared at him. Artie was angry for him saying sorry?

"Artie, I have to—"

"No. No!" Artie heaved a breath. "You have nothing to apologize for."

Pete's hands drifted to the couch. "That's not true. I—"

"All this time I thought you were doing this for grandiose reasons, that you were doing things without asking for help out of pride. But when you bronzed yourself and destroyed the machine I began to think I was wrong. I know you don't remember much from the last few weeks, but I asked you why you did all of this. You told me that you had to do it because there were seven people in the world you loved and had to protect, and you would die before you'd let Evil Pete hurt them. You didn't say the world, Pete. You said seven people – us. I take for granted my agents, Pete, and over time, with familiarity, I forget why each of you were chosen. Yes, you were chosen because of your military background, your excellent marksmanship, your vibes, and your instincts. Those are beneficial to you and this team." Artie shook his head a little. "But they are nothing compared to how good of a man you are and how large of a heart you have. So do not ever, ever, apologize about anything that's happened. I couldn't have made some of the choices you did, but in the end you saved the world when you protected the seven people you love."

Pete looked at the floor. "I couldn't save Genna."

Artie walked away. Pete thought this was over, that Artie couldn't deal with that, until he came back. He carried a very old book in his hands, one that was falling apart. He opened it and handed it to Pete. Pete took it and stared at a drawing of cave paintings.

"This cave is in Iran," Artie told him. "When Genna's DNA was entered in our database, it hit on bones found in this cave. There were bones from twenty people of various ages, and there were injuries on the bones to indicate they were murdered. Researchers believe this is her family – she was destined to die. There are some things that you just can't see coming and you couldn't stop them even if you could. I think you should be happy that she died knowing you gave her a second chance on life and that girl loved you, Pete, as much as you loved her."

Artie stopped talking. Pete stared at him. Minutes crawled by.

"Is there anything we need to talk about?" Artie asked.

"My head is killing me and my stomach can't decide if I need to hurl or not."

"Ah… I'll go get you a bucket. And more water."

Pete nodded. Artie hurried off to get the bucket. Pete rested his head against the back of the couch. He didn't look up when Artie sat the bucket on the floor and a water bottle next to his leg.

"I'll be down in the Warehouse." He turned to leave.

"Artie?"

He turned back. "Yeah."

"Maybe you could, uhm… I mean… Could, uhm… Don't you have some work or something up here to do? Something… Close by?"

Artie hesitated. "Maybe… Yeah. I'm sure I do. I could… I'll be right over here at the computer. Close by. Okay?"

Pete nodded. Artie took a step away and then stopped and patted Pete's shoulder. "Right. So. I'll be over here. Get some rest."

Pete picked up the bottle of water and hugged it to his chest as he slowly leaned over on the couch, keeping his eyes on Artie. Artie sat down at his computer and began working. For hours Pete dozed and woke, checking that Artie was still close by. Artie began muttering threats at the computers and the information he was looking up. The familiar sound lulled Pete into deep sleep where no dream invaded.

* * *

_The End_


End file.
